


Subversion

by mitslits



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alpha!Eggsy, Bottom Harry, M/M, Omega!Harry, Prostitution, Torture, a/b/o dynamics, the dubcon inherent with a/b/o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an Alpha's world, but Harry has never been one to take things sitting down, despite being an Omega. He disguises himself as an Alpha in order to join Kingsman and exacts revenge on any Alphas unfortunate enough to stumble into his path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subversion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Socksthefox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socksthefox/gifts).



> Written for the prompt: The world can be dangerous for omegas - they must be protected by an alpha or risk being forced into extreme prostitution - and only alphas can be Knights. Harry is an Omega. Merlin, a Beta, develops Alpha-mimicking braces for Harry so he can become a Knight. Inbetween missions they pose as johns to buy the omegas then torture/kill the alpha who is selling them. Eggsy presents as an Alpha, a threat to Dean who gives him an ultimatum: death or prostitution. Alpha prostitution is rare and especially degrading but Eggsy has no choice. Harry buys Eggsy and stuff happens. Writer's decision on how graphic or dark this is.
> 
> I know the ending is really rushed and for that I profusely apologize. I got slammed with real life the past few days and it shows. If I hadn't procrastinated so much that might have been avoided, but alas. I procrastinated. I hope you can still enjoy at least some of it!

_ Five. _

Harry Hart doesn’t pay much attention to clocks. It’s in his nature to be late, everyone knows this. But the timer that’s ticking down now is more important than the others and Merlin’s eyes flick restlessly between the minute hand and the door. 

_ Four. _

“Come on, Harry,” Merlin mutters under his breath. Nothing can make him anxious quite like Harry can and, not for the first time, he finds himself wondering why they’re even friends in the first place. He doesn’t mean it. Not really. 

_ Three.  _

His eyes are fixed firmly on the door now, his mental clock just as relentless as the one mounted on the wall. Merlin’s going to kill him with his own two hands as soon as he walks in. 

_ Two. _

It cannot be allowed to reach zero. 

_ One.  _

The door opens. In walks Harry Hart. 

-

The night air is edged with frost and the rain pattering on the pavement makes it a distinctly unpleasant evening. Even the moon is in hiding, wrapping itself up in clouds and leaving London to its own devices. 

Despite the inclement weather the back alleys are lined with men, women, and children. Many of them are dressed in next to nothing, their fingers and lips lined in blue as they stand shivering on display. It’s the kind of night where it’s almost a relief to be chosen, if only because it means warmth for a few hours. 

Harry and Merlin walk through them all, shoulders hunched and coat collars pulled up to provide some cover from the rain. Eyes half-pleading and half-fearful stare back at them, the thick scent of fear enveloping them. 

“Look at them all, Merlin,” Harry mutters, just loud enough for his companion to hear. “Christ, it’s pathetic.” 

Merlin glares at him sidelong. “Aye, well, if you aren’t careful you could be one of them. Do you have any idea how close you cut it today?” he asks, and it’s practically a growl. 

Sighing gustily, Harry rolls his eyes. 

Merlin doesn’t miss that little gesture and his scowl only deepens. “I hide you, Harry, I don’t make you invincible. We both know what you really are.” 

“Yes, yes,” Harry says dismissively. “My mission took longer than expected, that was all. It won’t happen again. I promise.” 

Something in Merlin tells him he shouldn’t hold him to that very strictly. They continue on in silence, all the while scanning the weary faces surrounding them. 

Abruptly, Harry stops. “That one,” he says. 

Merlin turns his head to look, following the direction of Harry’s gaze. She doesn’t look like anything special to him, mousy brown hair done up in a tight ponytail, bangs stopping just above stormy grey eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. Harry’s much better at judging the needs of Omegas than he is. It helps to have an inside perspective, Merlin supposes.

Harry catches her gaze, beckoning her over. She casts a nervous glance back at the Alpha behind her and he plants a hand on her back, shoving her forwards. A few stumbling steps have her falling into Harry’s arms. 

Merlin leaves them to themselves briefly, digging out his wallet as the Alpha looks on greedily. 

“Have her back in 24 hours,” the man growls, snatching the bills away from him. 

The woman gives him a nervous look as he joins them, shrinking close to Harry’s side.

“It’s alright,” Harry assures her, trailing a hand down her spine. “This is my friend, Merlin. He’ll be joining me tonight, but you have nothing to fear.” His eyes flick up to meet Merlin’s a smile playing at the edge of his lips. “He prefers to watch.” 

There’s a flash of disdain in her eyes but she turns her face away quickly. Not that it bothers Merlin much. If she knew their true intentions that night he thinks there would be a good deal more to that look than scorn. 

The three of them make their way out of the alley, Harry’s arm still wrapped firmly around the shivering Omega as he leads her towards the small flat they’ve rented for nights like these. It wouldn’t do to be caught with someone like her, after all. Inside it’s warm and both Merlin and Harry hang their coats up. The woman just looks relieved not to be outside any more, her shivering abating. 

Merlin sets about putting a kettle on, ignoring the curious look from their guest. She doesn’t look at him for long, Harry drawing her attention towards one of the paintings on the wall. As soon as the water comes to boil he makes up a cuppa, carrying it into the sitting room and offering it out to her. 

“You aren’t having any?” she asks, speaking exclusively to Harry. At the slight shake of his head, her brows furrow. 

“We thought you could use a little warming up,” Harry says, smiling down on her kindly. 

She gives him on her own, finally accepting the cup. 

Merlin watches intently as she takes a sip and Harry returns to giving her a lecture about the artist of the painting. Two sips later he spots the slight tremor in her hand, eyes narrowing slightly as if she can’t quite focus. He clears his throat. 

Harry tilts his head at him in acknowledgement, turning to face the woman. “What’s your name?” he asks, just as warm as before. 

“A-Amelia,” she says after a brief hesitation, as if she hadn’t been quite able to recall it. “I feel…” She places a hand to her forehead, teacup falling from nerveless fingers. 

Tea soaks into the carpet and Merlin makes a mental note to take care of that as soon as they return. Mold is the last thing they need. 

Harry places a steadying hand on Amelia’s elbow, guiding her over to the sofa. He guides her into a sitting position, crouching in front of her and looking at her earnestly. “Amelia,” he says. 

Her eyes, fixed on the teacup, stray over towards him. 

“I need you to relax,” Harry says, taking her hands in his and stroking his thumb over her knuckles. “Everything is going to be fine.” 

She’s shaking again, mouth opening and closing like she wants to say something but can’t quite remember how to speak. A tear falls down her cheek and Harry brushes it away gently. Then her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses into a heap. 

Harry sets about making her comfortable, arranging her into a more comfortable position and tucking a duvet under her chin. Merlin reappears at his shoulder just as he’s finishing up. His mouth turns into a grim line as he watches her chest slowly rise and fall.

“Are you ready?” Merlin asks. 

A brief beat of silence. And Harry nods. 

-

It’s been a good night for him, he thinks, as he shakes the cold from his shoulders. Amelia sold, for once. Saves him the trouble of punishing her again and earned him a fair bit of cash in the process. He was beginning to think she was more trouble than she was worth. Might have been she was even enough trouble to justify quietly getting rid of her. After all, what was another nameless Omega dumped off in the back streets? Nobody would miss her. 

Tonight, however, she’s not his problem. He thinks that deserves a celebratory drink. He flicks the light on in his flat, practically able to taste the whiskey already. Then he freezes, stock-still at the sight of two men settled neatly in his sofa. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he asks when he finds his tongue. “You still have the Omega bitch for hours yet.” 

Harry rises slowly, swirling a glass of stolen brandy, ice cubes clinking quietly within. He walks forward without saying a word. 

There’s a purpose to his step that has the Alpha drawing back nervously. There’s no sight or scent of Amelia and he starts to wonder what they’re really doing there. Pain and cut crystal explode simultaneously across his face. He stumbles backwards, slamming into the wall, chips of glass sprinkled liberally over the right side of his face. 

“I’m afraid my partner doesn’t like that sort of terminology,” Merlin says dryly, not having moved from his position on the sofa. 

Harry pins him to the wall with his forearm, a dangerous gleam in his eye. 

Blood trickles down his brow, blinding him, and panic mushrooms in his chest. “Wh-what the hell do you want?” he asks, voice thick with it. 

A smile blossoms slowly on Harry’s face and even Merlin is a little unsettled by it. “Justice.” 

-

They send Amelia on her way the next morning with more money in her pockets than she’s ever seen in her life and a key to the flat should she ever find her way back to it. She never finds out exactly what happened to her previous employer and she never cares to. 

-

Normally Harry is bored by routine. It was part of the reason he’d tried out for Kingsman in the first place despite his unusual status. He’d refused to accept the life typically forced upon Omegas, the dull monotony of being a stay-at-home mate to someone who got to go out and do things. Originally he’d planned on becoming the first Omega to ever be an agent. Soon, however, it became clear that that wasn’t going to be an option. 

Kingsman didn’t employ Omegas in any position, let alone offer them a knighthood. If he was going to climb the ranks, he was going to have to find some other way to do it. 

Enter Merlin. Merlin who had a cushy job as a tech Beta, Merlin who ran his own little experiments on the side when that wasn’t enough, Merlin who delighted in a challenge. Merlin who turned out to be just the person Harry needed. 

They’d developed a system early on in their relationship and perfected it over the years. The two of them would be like clockwork if Kingsman allowed for it, but as it was they made it work. 

Merlin looks up as the door swings open, glancing at his watch. “An entire two minutes to spare. I’m impressed.” 

Harry sprawls into one of the overstuffed chairs he’d had installed in Merlin’s office for just such an occasion. “I was starting to itch,” he mutters, scratching absently at his arm. Suppressing his nature has worked surprisingly well, but there have been occasional side effects. Itching is one of the better ones. 

Trying to suppress a smile, Merlin keys in the code to the small safe stuffed into one corner of the room. It’s well-hidden, sandwiched in between a towering file cabinet and the wall and usually piled high with papers and briefcases. Merlin hates having to upset the organized mess, but it’s a necessary evil. He digs out the small case of syringes, dimly aware of Harry rolling up his sleeve behind him. 

“Itching is new,” he says, loading up the syringe and flicking it a few times. 

Harry snorts. “Better than the vertigo. You’re supposed to be the genius, here, couldn’t you engineer something that  _ didn’t _ come with side effects?” 

Syringe in hand, Merlin swings the safe closed, locking it back up and setting the now-empty bottle on his desk. “Perhaps it isn’t the best idea to insult the man about to give you an injection,” he says dryly, but Harry just smirks up at him. Merlin pauses, tip of the needle hovering just over his flesh, looking to him with a silent question. 

Harry nods and the syringe plunges into his flesh, Merlin depressing the lever almost immediately. Every muscle in his body tenses and his pupils dilate. Air hisses in through his teeth. 

It takes a few minutes even after Merlin’s taken the needle out for Harry to return to normal, but when he does, the faint Omega-like scent that had been building up around him is completely gone. He doesn’t smell like much of anything now, even to someone who knows what he’s looking for. 

Harry gets to his feet, brushing his hair back into place. “Thank you, Merlin,” he says. Then, back straight, and looking every inch the Alpha he’s pretending to be, he walks out of his office. 

Of course, that’s the duller part of the routine, the obligation that has to be fulfilled. Harry much prefers everything that comes afterwards. 

He’d been right; Kingsman kept him plenty busy and hardly ever offered him the chance to be bored. He saw things he’d never expected to see, done things he’d never expected to do, and it was all thanks to whatever hormone-suppressor Merlin had managed to cook up for him. Still, even Kingsman didn’t keep him occupied all the time. They realized agents needed their rest, and he had to find something to fill his 24 hour wait times between missions. 

Harry knew about the harsh truth Omegas faced. It was impossible not to, no matter what tier you occupied. For Omegas, it was a frightening reality, for Alphas a nice escape. Betas tended to ignore the whole thing, but even they occasionally needed a night off. 

Merlin hadn’t been involved at first. All he knew was Harry would shut off his glasses feed, drop off the grid for a few hours, and then pop back up with a self-satisfied smirk and freshly-bruised knuckles. 

For a while, he didn’t ask. They didn’t need a relationship beyond their strange, yet successful, experiment nor did Merlin want one. Eventually, however, he caved in to his natural curiosity. 

“Where do you go?” he’d asked while preparing an injection. 

Harry, head spinning and barely able to open his eyes without his stomach heaving, had cracked open an eye. “Easier to show than tell.” 

So shown him he’d had. Merlin had been so intrigued by the whole process that he’d met Harry at the mouth of the alley the next time he’d had a night off. They hadn’t stopped since. 

-

Three missions and five injections later they’re back on the streets. Winter is fully upon them and both are bundled up against the cold. 

The Omegas they stroll past are even more miserable than usual, huddled in on themselves as much as they’re allowed in vain attempts to fight the cold. 

To make matters worse, a chill breeze whips up, raking across their skin icily. 

Harry freezes midstep and Merlin doesn’t have to guess as to why. He’s caught the scent as well, strikingly out of place given their location. An Alpha. Not entirely uncommon, of course, given that most of the peddlers are Alphas, but there’s a noticeable tinge of distress to this one. 

Harry and Merlin exchange a glance before heading off to find its source, barely sparing any of the Omegas a glance. They’re hardly interesting now. 

The scent leads them to a young boy, can’t be more than 16 or 17, dressed only in a thin, long-sleeve shirt and jeans. His lips are tinged blue but he seems utterly ignorant of the temperature, just eyes them warily as they approach. He elbows the man to his side in his stomach. 

“Dean, wake the fuck up,” he hisses, never taking his gaze from Harry and Merlin. 

Dean awakes with a snort and a glare over at Eggsy. “The fuck you think you’re doin’-” He cuts himself off when he notices the pair eying them, leering in their direction. “An’ how can I help you fine gentlemen tonight, then?” 

“I’m very curious,” Harry starts, surprising Merlin. He usually prefers to let Merlin deal with the sellers until they come back for their second visit. “Is the boy truly an Alpha? Or has that effect been achieved through hormone alteration?” 

Dean flushes, tone turning peevish. “Course he’s a real Alpha!” he snaps. “Them hormone things don’t work anyways.” He crosses his arms over his chest and juts his chin out, daring Harry to challenge him again. 

Harry just inclines his head, flashing a quick glance at Merlin.

Taking that as his cue, Merlin steps forwards and into negotiations as to price. 

Moments later, Dean jerks his head towards Harry and Eggsy goes, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He stands quietly by Harry’s side, doesn’t bat an eye when Merlin joins them again and they start guiding him towards the flat. 

Conversation with Eggsy couldn’t exactly be called conversation. He answers each question with as little information as possible, expression totally blank.

“Do you have a name?” 

“Yes.” 

“What is it?” 

“What’s  _ yours _ ?” 

“Harry.” 

“Eggsy.” 

“And how are-” 

“Look, I’m fuckin’ freezin’, can we just get wherever the hell it is we’re going?” 

All three of them lapse into silence after that, Eggsy’s arms tightening around himself. A few paces further and his teeth start chattering. 

Harry slips an arm around his shoulder and he doesn’t brush it off, but he doesn’t lean into him either. He just accepts it, like he seems to accept everything else. 

They take him to the flat, the same as they always do. Merlin disappears into the small kitchen to prepare the tea as Harry tries to draw any more information out of him. He doesn’t seem to be very successful, Eggsy answering only in monosyllables if he says anything at all.

He’s a strange one, Merlin thinks. Alpha prostitutes are already few and far between; the few he’s seen before usually work for themselves, but Eggsy is clearly under Dean’s thumb. There’s no point in getting curious about it; they won’t ever see Eggsy again after tonight, but he can’t help but wonder. 

Eggsy doesn’t accept the tea. He just stares blankly at the proffered cup before giving Merlin an equally blank look.  

“To help you get warm,” Merlin says, holds it out again. 

“You know what else would help me get warm?” Eggsy says, smiling innocently. He doesn’t wait for an answer before supplying his own. “Fuckin’ me. Like you paid for.” 

Harry’s lips twitch in amusement, but he swallows down the smile before it can truly form. “It’s only tea, Eggsy.” 

Snorting, Eggsy settles back against the sofa cushions, folding his arms over his chest. “Fine. But you both need to take a sip of it before I’m touchin’ it,” he says. 

Harry’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?” 

Eggsy shakes his head. “You think you’re the first people to try somethin’ like this? It don’t take a genius to figure out that’s doctored.” He eyes the tea warily, nose crinkling. 

Just like that, their routine dissolves. Harry can’t help but be pleased, despite the new wrinkle in their plan. If he was honest with himself, even this had been slowly losing its appeal. It was becoming too predictable for his taste. Now here was Eggsy, forcing them to switch things up, improvise.  

“Very well,” Harry says, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m sure we can forego the tea this time, can’t we, Merlin?” He can tell by the way Eggsy tenses that the ‘this time’ hasn’t escaped his notice. He ignores Merlin’s irritated sigh as he goes to dump the tea down the drain, shifting to face Eggsy full on. “That was a good guess.” 

Eggsy doesn’t bother looking at him. He just keeps staring ahead, arms still crossed. “It wasn’t a guess. Now are we goin’ to fuckin’ get on with this or what?” He does look at Harry then, head cocked to one side. 

For a moment, Harry actually considers it. Eggsy is certainly attractive and he knows from experience that Dean won’t take that long to track down… But he shakes his head. “Actually, I had something else in mind.” 

Eggsy blinks, mouth opening a bit. He closes it after a second without saying anything, an invitation to go on. 

“How did you get into this, Eggsy? It’s rare that Merlin and I find an Alpha on the streets. And, despite what I asked Dean, I fully believe you are what you say you are,” Harry says. 

Silence meets the question and Eggsy doesn’t speak for so long that Harry begins to doubt he’ll say anything at all. “He was gonna kill me,” he says, voice small. 

Harry sighs. “I assume by ‘he’, you’re referring to Dean.” 

Eggsy pulls his knees up to his chest, nods once. 

“And why was he going to kill you?” Harry prods. 

Shrugging one shoulder, Eggsy leans forwards to rest his chin on his knees. “I was competition. Can’t have two Alphas livin’ under one roof for long, but I couldn’t leave my mum. Or my little sister. Dean said he’d- Why the fuck am I tellin’ you all this? What are you even askin’ for?” It’s like a flip in his head switches and Eggsy suddenly remembers where he is and what he’s there for. “I don’t need to give you my bloody life story. Ain’t like it matters.” 

Harry’s mouth quirks up in one corner as Merlin comes back into the room, teacup nowhere in sight. Harry stands, turning to face the other man. “Shall we go, then?” 

Merlin glances pointedly from him to Eggsy, as if to ask what the hell Harry is doing. 

“What? I hardly think Eggsy is going to stop us,” Harry says blandly, glancing back at Eggsy to confirm his suspicion. 

Slowly, Eggsy gets to his feet. He edges backwards a step, eyes narrowed. “What are you talkin’ about? Stop you from doin’ what?” he asks. 

Harry meets his gaze unflinchingly. “Killing Dean.” 

Eggsy freezes with one foot half-raised to take another step. “What?” he asks after a brief moment of silence. 

“You heard me perfectly well,” Harry says, moving to pull on his coat. 

“I… You can’t… you can’t do that!” Eggsy protests. He doesn’t make any move to stop them, however, just watches them as they get ready to leave. 

Harry just manages to stop himself from laughing. “I can assure you, we can. From the look of him, I can’t imagine Dean will be the hardest Alpha we’ve faced. You can come with us, if you like, or you can stay here and wait. It shouldn’t take us more than a couple of hours.” 

To both Merlin’s and Harry’s surprise, Eggsy steps in front of the doorway, folding his arms over his chest and lifting his chin. 

“I said you couldn’t do that,” Eggsy grits through his teeth. 

Brow furrowed in confusion, Harry stares back at him. “Why not? I would have thought you’d hate him.” 

“I do,” Eggsy says, and he sounds exhausted. His shoulders slump and he leans back against the door as if he can’t support his own weight anymore. “But that don’t mean we don’t need him. I can’t do anythin’ for mum and Daisy. I don’t know how to do anythin’ except this.” He gestures to his body. “You do somethin’ to him and you’re killin’ all three of us.” 

Harry pauses. He’d never really considered what happened to the other Omegas before. Where were they supposed to go once he and Merlin had finished with the Alphas who sold them? Not that it really mattered to him. They were a means to an end, a way to temporarily alleviate his boredom, but Eggsy seemed realer, somehow. Harder to just walk away from. 

Even so, even with that thought in mind, he never expects himself to say what he does. “Bond with me, then.” 

Merlin and Eggsy whip their heads towards him, both speaking at once. 

“I can’t bond with another Alpha-” 

“Harry, what the fuck are you think-” 

But Harry throws a hand up, forestalling them both. He addresses Eggsy first, shaking his head slightly. “Despite my appearance, I’m not an Alpha. I have money, connections. I could take care of you and your family, even with Dean out of the picture.” 

Eggsy just blinks at him, mouth opening and closing a few times without actually saying anything. 

“Think about what you’re doing,” Merlin hisses before he has a chance to speak as Harry turns to face him. “Everything you and I have worked for at Kingsman will be destroyed, Harry.” 

Harry reaches out to place a placating hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, Merlin. I know what I’m doing.” 

“When do you ever know what you’re doing?” Merlin mutters, but Harry’s already turning away. 

Eggsy hasn’t moved from his spot in the doorway but he’s eying Harry more curiously now. “Are you  _ really _ not an Alpha?” he asks, leaning forwards slightly as if he’s going to see something he’d missed before. 

Harry places one hand over his heart, smiling slightly. “I never have been and I never will be. I just managed to make advantageous relationships.” He glances over at Merlin, but the man is staring away sullenly, jaw clenched and arms folded over his chest. 

For a moment, Eggsy does nothing, just stays where he is, eyes boring into Harry’s. Eventually he takes a few, slow steps towards Harry until they’re nearly chest to chest and Eggsy has to tilt his head back to see into his face. “An’ who says I’d even want to bond with you anyways, old man?” 

Harry shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. “It would be to both of our advantages. I’m not saying either of us has to like it, but-” 

“What do you mean ‘to both of our advantages’?” Eggsy interrupts, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t seem to be gettin’ much out of this.”  

This is the part Harry doesn’t want to admit, even to himself. But he cards a hand through his hair, heaves a heavy sigh, and admits, “When my employer finds out what I am, I won’t be able to keep my job. You know better than most what happens to Omegas who are left on their own,” he says grimly. 

Eggsy actually seems to be considering the offer. He moves to the side so he’s no longer crowding Harry’s space, chewing on his bottom lip. “Fine. Yeah. Get rid of Dean for me. We can figure out the rest later, I guess.” He collapses onto the sofa and doesn’t watch them as they leave. 

As soon as the door swings shut, Harry’s shoulders tense, ready for the retribution he’s sure is coming. To his surprise, however, Merlin stays silent until they’re well on their way to Dean’s flat. It had been the work of a moment for Merlin to dig up an address and they already know their way around the seedier underbelly of the town. 

When he can no longer take not knowing what’s going on within Merlin’s head, Harry clears his throat. “You’re wondering what I’m doing, I take it,” he says. 

Merlin spares him a glance. He fixes his gaze back on the road ahead of them, quickens his pace slightly. “I am.” 

Harry adjusts his own pace to match. “It was never going to last,” he sighs. 

Their deception could only go on so long, Harry had known that from the start. Someone would find them out, Merlin would get tired of supplying him with the suppressant,  _ something _ . 

“So you’re ending it prematurely. On an assumption,” Merlin says and his voice is cold enough to freeze the blood in Harry’s veins. 

Harry stops mid-step, reaches out to clamp a hand down on Merlin’s shoulder and bring him to a stop as well. “It’s not an assumption.” 

Something about the tone of his voice seems to filter through the haze of his anger and Merlin looks a little less frosty, a little more like he’s willing to listen. “What are you talking about?” he asks. 

Harry releases his grip on Merlin’s shoulder and passes his hand over his forehead. “The side effects have been getting worse. Bad enough that they’re affecting my work. I’m not only putting myself at risk, I’m endangering the whole organization.” He closes his eyes briefly and when he opens them again Merlin doesn’t look particularly surprised. “You knew.” 

“I suspected,” Merlin corrects, turning away from him. They resume walking, slower this time so they can keep talking. “Going to human trials too quickly has never done anything good in scientific history. I didn’t expect you to be any different. I hoped, maybe, but we both know hope isn’t worth a rat’s arse.” 

They lapse into silence for a few more blocks, the streets growing rougher around them. 

Merlin breaks it when they’re only a couple doors away from the Council Estates where Dean lives. “Is he our last one, then?” 

Harry nods. 

“Then we’ll make it a good one.” 

-

Getting Dean away from his flat is laughably easy. All it takes is a quiet, “Something’s happened to Eggsy,” and he’s storming out right behind Harry and Merlin, muttering about how they’ll have to pay a lot more than they bargained for because of this. They don’t take him back to the flat. 

-

Dean emerges from a brief bout of unconsciousness to find himself in unfamiliar surroundings. He appears to be in some kind of storage unit, a small, dimly lit cubicle of concrete. 

“What the fuck?” His question echoes through the empty space as he comes fully awake, realizes his arms are strung up above his head. Glancing up, he sees that there’s a chain encircling his wrists and hung over a hook embedded in the ceiling. The tips of his toes scrape the floor and he can already feel the muscles in his chest and back starting to ache. “Where the hell am I?” he shouts, scrabbling for some sort of purchase. He only succeeds in tearing at the skin around his wrists. 

A latch clicks behind Dean and he arches his neck as much as he can, trying to see behind him. He catches a glimpse of a door swinging open. The clang of it shutting again reverberates through his skull. 

“Who are you? What’s goin’ on?” Dean barks, straining to see whoever it is that’s come in. There’s no reply, just the slightly ominous sound of footsteps walking closer. By the time they stop, Dean’s heart is beating in his throat. He shakes his arms, setting the chains rattling. “Answer me, goddammit!”

Sharp, cold steel presses against the base of Dean’s spine and he freezes. He can’t identify what it is, doesn’t feel like the muzzle of a gun, not thick enough to be the tip of a knife, but he can tell it’s a threat. 

“I’m not fond of what you do for a living, Mr. Baker,” the person behind him says. “You thrive off of the humiliation and degradation of your own kind. More than that, you profit from it.” 

A twinge of pain runs through Dean as the man digs into his back. He can feel a warm stream of blood trickle down and can’t quite stop a small whimper spilling from his lips. “Gotta make a livin’ just like anyone else, don’t I?” he asks, voice cracking halfway through. 

The press of steel withdraws. “Indeed you do.” 

The man finally reveals himself and a flash of anger rips through Dean as he recognizes the man from earlier.

Harry smirks at him, flicking the stiletto up underneath Dean’s chin, forcing his head backwards. “Tell me,” he says contemplatively, “what would you say is the most important part of your body? For some people I might say the brain.” He presses the razor-thin blade against Dean’s temple, removes it a second later. “But I don’t think that’s your strong suit.” 

Dean’s throat closes as the blade moves down his body, stopping at his groin. He fights back the urge to squirm. 

Harry looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “I suspect this is also important to most people.” Again, it falls away. “Though, in your line of work, you rely on someone else’s cock, don’t you?” 

Dean barely has time to feel relieved before the tip of the stiletto is pressed against the bottom knuckle of one thumb. 

“Now these… These are your tools,” Harry says, tracing over his hand lightly, carefully with the blade. “Your hands take the money you get for Eggsy, you use your fists to threaten him if he doesn’t do what you like. Yes, I think your hands are your most important feature.” He pauses briefly and frowns. “I don’t think I’d like to let you have them anymore.” 

Dean screams as the stiletto flashes through the air, his severed thumb falling to the floor near his feet. “Shit!” His index finger quickly follows, blood streaming down his hand, trickling down his arm in sticky streams. He loses two more fingers before he can force himself to do anything other than yell. “No, please, please stop,” he begs. 

Naturally, Harry doesn’t listen. He doesn’t stop until all the fingers on his right hand are gone. 

Pain envelopes Dean and black edges along his vision. His head droops forwards. Almost as soon as it does there’s a hand in his hair, jerking his head up harshly. 

“Oh, I’m afraid you don’t get to leave yet, Mr. Baker. We’ve barely begun,” Harry says, running the stiletto almost sensually across his cheek. 

Reflexively Dean jerks away from it, presses his face against his left arm to keep his gaze from his mangled hand. If he doesn’t see it, maybe it won’t be real. 

The door opens again and instantly Dean starts screaming. “Help me, this bloody bastard’s crazy!” But his heart plummets as soon as he recognizes Harry’s companion from earlier, looking as stoic and uncaring as he had before. 

Merlin glances from Dean’s bloody stumps to the pile of digits on the floor. “I thought you were going to take your time with him,” he says to Harry without taking his eyes off Dean. 

Harry shrugs one shoulder. “There’s still a lot of him left,” he points out. 

Merlin holds his hand out and Harry passes the stiletto over with no small amount of reluctance. 

Dean tries to shift backwards, something about the emotionless way he looks at him so much worse than the suppressed anger in Harry’s gaze, but he doesn’t get very far. 

Merlin fists his hand in his shirt to steady him. “I would suggest you try to keep still. This is going to take a bit of precision.” So saying, he reaches up, sliding the stiletto expertly underneath Dean’s thumbnail. 

Searing pain lances through Dean and he shrieks, twisting away without meaning to. The blade rips through him, splitting open the tip of his thumb. He nearly passes out again at the sight of his splintered nail, gleaming white bone peeking through flayed flesh. 

Merlin tsks disapprovingly. “I tried to warn you,” he says. “Harry, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

Without further prompting, Harry moves behind him, gripping Dean by the back of his neck. 

The other nails are easier once Dean has been restrained. Merlin pries them off one by one, letting them fall carelessly to the ground. Once that’s done, he and Harry step back for a moment or two, give Dean a bit of a chance to recover. 

Harry breaks the silence with a question. “Did you bring what I asked for?” 

In response, Merlin reaches into a jacket pocket, pulls out a blunt pair of pliers.

Harry takes the pliers from him and moves to stand directly in front of Dean. He offers him a sympathetic smile as he grasps his first finger and opens the pliers. “I’m not entirely unmerciful, Mr. Baker,” he says. “For this, you’ll be allowed to pass out.” 

He smashes the pliers’ jaws closed and there’s a distinct crack of bone. 

Dean makes it to his ring finger before succumbing to the black.

\- 

Dean wakes up by drowning. Water fills his mouth and nose as he instinctively tries to breathe. His body jerks uselessly, but suddenly the hand on the back of his head is gone, allows him to lift his head up. He can’t fully comprehend what’s happening, just knows he’s on his knees in front of a bucket, no longer strung up by his wrists. 

Almost as soon as he realizes this, he finds himself hauled back up, chains circling his wrists again. His arms scream in protest as they’re stretched above his head again, leaving him suspended once more. 

“I’ll… I’ll give you anythin’,” he pants between gasps for air. “Please, if you just let me go. Got an Omega bitch at home you can have, daughter too if you want her. Just, please-” He doesn’t get anymore out before a fist thuds into his jaw. 

Harry lands another blow just below his eye before he draws back, knuckles bloody. “Speak again and I’ll cut out your tongue,” he says. 

Dean has no doubt he’ll make good on that threat so he clamps his mouth shut, swallows down blood. 

Harry produces a short section of lead pipe from one corner of the room and rests it casually on his shoulder. “Your position is already one that makes breathing difficult. If we left you like this, eventually you would suffocate. It might take days, but eventually your lungs would collapse. I’m not a patient man, Mr. Baker.” He swings the lead pipe down. “So we’ll just have to speed up the process.” 

Dean closes his eyes, already knowing what’s coming. It doesn’t make it hurt any less when the pipe thuds into his ribcage. Automatically he tries to curl in on himself but that just sends spikes of pain radiating through his abdomen. He loses track of how many hits it takes before all his ribs are cracked are broken, torso riddled with already-blossomed bruises. 

“Pl… please,” he pleads, voice hoarse. 

Slightly startled, Harry swings around to look at Merlin. “I did tell him I’d cut out his tongue if he spoke again?” 

Merlin nods and instantly Dean realizes his mistake. He doesn’t dare try begging again, just presses his lips together as if that will take back what he’s already said. 

Looking almost delighted, Harry exchanges his pipe for the stiletto, letting Merlin take command of the pliers. 

Dean refuses to open his mouth but all it takes is a firm hit to his ribs for him to groan in pain. 

Merlin grips his jaw brutally tight, keeping him from closing it. He reaches in with the pliers and takes hold of Dean’s tongue none-too-gently, pulling it as far out as it will go. 

Wild-eyed with panic, Dean makes incomprehensible gurgles, fixated on the stiletto. It slices downwards and all he can taste is iron. He shrieks, blood pouring over his lips, dripping down his jaw. His tongue twitches aimlessly for a few seconds, spasming on the ground before falling still. 

Harry stares at him, crinkling his nose with distaste. “I can’t say you were good-looking before this, but you look positively atrocious now. I suppose it’s only fitting that your outsides match your inside,” he says. 

“I don’t think we’re quite there, yet,” Merlin says. 

“No?” Harry studies Dean some more, narrowing his eyes critically. “You’re right.” 

He moves faster than Dean would have thought possible, fist landing squarely on the bridge of his nose. It breaks with a sickening snap and Dean screams again, nearly choking on the fresh deluge of blood. Some primal urge to fight back rises up within him, briefly holds back the pain so he can lunge forwards, teeth snapping for Harry’s hand. 

Harry’s reflexes are too quick to allow him to get caught, but he looks anything but amused at the attempt. “Pliers, please,” he says, holding his hand out to Merlin for them. 

Merlin hands them over without a word. 

Dean tries to babble out an apology but it comes out as nothing more than a jumbled mess. Tears well up in his eyes as his jaw is seized again, salt mixing with iron on what little is left of his tongue. 

There is no method to Harry’s madness. He starts with one of Dean’s canines, the crack of tooth separating from bone like nothing Dean has ever heard. Harry digs out a molar next, goes for an incisor after that. He doesn’t stop until Dean’s mouth is a mess of blood and spit, his teeth scattered around them. 

“There,” Harry says once he’s finished. “That’s more accurate.” 

This time, Merlin agrees, a smile edging onto his face for the first time that evening. 

Dean didn’t know he still had the capacity for fear, but the look on that man’s face drives another spike through him. 

“I hate to cut your fun short, Harry,” Merlin says with a bit of a sigh, the smile falling from his face. “But it will be morning soon. Eggsy will be wondering about us.” 

Harry seems genuinely disappointed, but not surprised. “Well, then,” he says, setting the pliers aside for the stiletto. “As we’ve done such a good job of making his outsides his inside, I think we should see how we do with the reverse.” With one, easy stroke he cuts away Dean’s shirt, revealing the broken mess of his body. 

Before he goes any further, he tips Dean’s chin up, looking into his swollen eyes. “You understand why we’re doing this, I trust. I hope the money was worth it.” He doesn’t wait any longer, just digs the blade into Dean’s stomach and drags it along, blood seeping from the cut as he goes. 

Dean watches in horror as his organs press up against the wound, spill out in a discolored mass. His mouth gapes open, heart stuttering. The last thing he sees before his eyes flutter closed is Harry’s cold, unforgiving stare. 

-

Eggsy startles into wakefulness when Harry walks into the flat, sitting up and blinking owlishly at him from his spot on the sofa. He glances behind him. “Where’s the other one? Merlin, or whatever.” 

Harry waits until he’s got the door fully closed and locked behind him to answer. “He stayed behind to take care of some things. I don’t think he’ll be coming back tonight.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Eggsy asks, pushing himself off the sofa, one eyebrow twitching up. “Good. You still got half a promise to fulfill.” His tone is confident but the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other betrays his nervousness. 

Harry shakes his head and Eggsy’s face falls. 

In a flash, his expression changes from disappointed to angry, and he launches himself at Harry. “Fuckin’ wanker! Should’ve known you’d just leave-” 

Harry catches the fist Eggsy throws easily, curling his fingers around his wrist. “If you had waited a moment, I was going to tell you that nothing can happen  _ tonight _ . I’m still mimicking the status of an Alpha. I don’t know for certain, but I doubt a bond would take.” When Eggsy seems to calm somewhat, Harry releases him. 

Sheepishly, Eggsy rubs the back of his neck, darting a glance at him from under his lashes. “Yeah, that makes sense.” He sucks in a breath. “Sorry. Didn’t think you’d really wanna stick around.” 

A soft smile edges its way onto Harry’s face, but he just shakes his head slightly. “You’re welcome to stay here for the rest of the night, if you like. I should think I’ll be back to normal by morning,” he says.

Eggsy hesitates, glances towards the door and thinks Harry doesn’t catch it. 

“Something wrong?” Harry asks dryly, taking off his coat and hanging it on the peg. 

Eggsy shakes his head slightly, sagging back against the arm of the sofa. “Nah, nothin’s really wrong, it’s just, I think I should go see my mum and Daisy, you know? Might not be seein’ much of them after…” He gestures to the space between them. 

“Eggsy, one of the points of this arrangement was that you would be capable of taking care of your family. I’m hardly going to keep you from them,” Harry assures him. 

Eggsy brightens at that, shooting Harry a real, genuine smile. 

Harry is almost startled by it and he hesitates in the doorway of the bedroom. “Of course, you’re welcome to go see them tonight, too, if you’d like,” he offers after a moment. 

Shrugging one shoulder, Eggsy flops gracelessly onto the sofa. “This’ll do for the night.” He stuffs one of the decorative pillows under his head, eyes already closing. 

Harry clears his throat and Eggsy cracks one back open. Smiling slightly, Harry tilts his head towards the direction of the bedroom. “The bed is plenty large enough for two.” 

Eggsy seems to debate staying where he is for a moment or two before he stands and drifts into the bedroom. In seconds, he’s burrowed into the covers, sighing contentedly. “The sofa wasn’t bad, bruv, but this is loads better,” he mumbles into the pillow.

Harry slips into the bed beside him and flicks off the light without a word. 

-

Pain and desperation jerk him rudely out of sleep. A thin sheen of sweat covers him and he finds himself tangled in the sheets when he tries to sit up. The room swims before his eyes and it takes actual effort to pull it back into focus. When he does, he realizes the space beside him is empty. 

“Eggsy?” he asks, pawing at the empty sheets. He’s still in the flat, Harry knows that much. He can smell him from here. 

A wave of nausea wracks through him and he doubles over, moaning. If this is what he’s been missing out on all these years, he’s even more grateful for what Merlin’s done for him. The sudden, overwhelming urge to find Eggsy overtakes him, forces him to uncurl himself and get out of the bed. 

He stumbles into the sitting room to find Eggsy sequestered on the far end of the sofa, hand clapped over his nose and mouth. 

Eggsy’s eyes widen when he sees Harry and he shakes his head once, violently. “Get back in there. ‘S hard enough with the door closed,” he says, words muffled. 

Somehow, Harry manages to make it across the sitting room without collapsing. He lands heavily on his knees next to the sofa, settling his head in Eggsy’s lap. Even that little bit of proximity is enough to provide some relief and his eyes slide closed with a contented sigh.

After a hesitant second, there are fingers winding their way into Harry’s hair. He opens his eyes again, shifting until he can tilt his head, look up at Eggsy. “Please,” he whispers. 

Apparently that’s all Eggsy needs. He tightens his hold on Harry, hauls him up and brings their mouths together in a crushing kiss. It’s tongue and teeth and pure need and Harry didn’t realize how good this would feel. 

Harry doesn’t wait for an invitation; he clambers onto the sofa and situates himself on top of Eggsy, clasping his face in his hands. He takes and takes and takes, kissing Eggsy greedily.

Eggsy moves his hands from Harry’s hair to skim down the rest of his body, fingers lighting nerves in their wake, transforming Harry into a live wire. 

Harry finally manages to tear his mouth away, but only for a second. He presses sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to every patch of skin he can reach, Eggsy shivering beneath him. Eventually there’s a hand pressed against his chest and pushing him back. He almost whines, but manages to swallow it down at the last second. He’s already torn his dignity to shreds, he doesn’t want to let go of the last of it. 

“Didn’t wanna stop,” Eggsy admits, chest heaving for breath. His lips are kiss-red and smeared with spit, his eyes swallowed up by black. “But you got that nice bed in there and all…” 

That doesn’t really warrant an interruption to Harry, but he only rolls his eyes and reluctantly climbs off Eggsy. “Come on, then,” he growls, wrapping an arm around Eggsy’s wrist and pulling him with him. 

Eggsy goes willingly, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot as they go. 

Harry walks backwards into the room until his knees hit the mattress, lets himself fall and pulls Eggsy on top of him. “Have you always smelled this good?” he asks. He busies himself with tugging at Eggsy’s shirt, trying to get it up over his head. 

Laughing lightly, Eggsy sits up long enough to shuck it off, goes right back to kissing Harry once it’s disposed of. He rolls his hips down, straining erection dragging over Harry’s. 

Harry moans, fingernails digging into the pale skin of Eggsy’s back. His own hips jerk in response, seeking friction. He can feel himself growing slick, shuddering at the foreign sensation. He suspects it would be more disquieting if he didn’t have an Alpha sucking at his neck. As it is, all he can think about is lips turning into teeth, Eggsy filling him up. 

As if Eggsy can sense the new path Harry’s thoughts have taken, his fingers curl into the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down. 

Harry cants his hips off the bed, pants joining his trousers on the floor and his shirt following soon after. 

Eggsy pauses to take a look at him, tracing over the scars patterning his torso with appreciation. “You’ve been through some shit,” he says, one eyebrow arching up. 

“It’s amazing what you can do when people think you’re an Alpha,” Harry retorts, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny. The sharp stab of need coils low in his stomach and he reaches for Eggsy’s trousers. 

It only takes a moment before they’re skin on skin and slick trickles down the inside of Harry’s thighs, fat cock resting against his stomach. Eggsy seems inclined to take his time but Harry isn’t having any of that. He reaches up, winding his arms around Eggsy’s waist. Without wasting a second, he flips them, straddling Eggsy and swallowing down his gasp. 

Harry wraps a hand around Eggsy’s cock, guiding himself onto it, hissing as his muscles stretch to accommodate him. It fades quickly and he sinks down onto him, breath coming out in a juddering sigh. 

Eggsy’s eyes flutter closed as Harry starts moving, gasps and moans punctuating the sound of flesh hitting flesh. “Fuck,” he bites out as Harry’s fingernails scrape over his nipples. 

Eyes glittering with interest, Harry leans down to lave his tongue over it instead, earning another delicious moan. He can feel Eggsy’s knot starting to swell, pressing against the rim of his hole as he slides back down his cock. 

Eventually, Harry climbs off of him, body acutely aware of the loss. He sprawls onto the mattress, panting desperately. “Fuck me.” 

Eggsy kisses anything else he was going to say off his lips, sliding back into him easily. Harry’s already so loose and slick that Eggsy’s knot nearly fits. All it takes is a few more thrusts and Eggsy is fully inside him, buries his teeth in Harry’s neck as he comes. 

Pain and pleasure intermix, shooting through Harry all at once until he doesn’t know what he feels. He cries out as he reaches his own climax, nails digging into Eggsy’s back, scoring red lines across it, leaving his own mark. 

It takes a while for them to come down, Eggsy’s warm breath against the side of Harry’s neck, Harry’s hands resting on Eggsy’s sweat-slick skin. When Eggsy’s knot subsides, he pulls out of Harry, leaving him feeling empty but not entirely unsatisfied. 

There’s something between them now and it spreads throughout Harry peacefully, leaving him relaxed and melting into the sheets beneath him. His traces his fingers over the new bite mark curiously, a dull ache emanating from the spot. He turns to find Eggsy watching him, smile playing over his lips. 

“So that’s it, then?” Eggsy asks after a moment, breaking the silence. “Now onto the rest of our lives?” 

Harry stares up at the ceiling and closes his eyes. “Onto the rest of our lives.”


End file.
